


The things we do

by ghostrags



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Chapter 9 Spoilers, Mentions of Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22141879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostrags/pseuds/ghostrags
Summary: My personal take on the events succeeding Byleth's birth and up to Jeralt leading the monastery.
Kudos: 7





	The things we do

**Author's Note:**

> Please take into note I have only played Azure Moon to completion and have yet to reach major Church details in any of the other routes, so if any of this in inaccurate, I apologize. I also haven't completed Alois's or Seteth's supports, I wasn't aware of their lore dumps until well into the war phase of my first playthrough (much to my disgruntlement). I also see Byleth as 18/19 rather than 20/21 over the course of the game so this takes place in the year 1161. I don't THINK this clashes with anything in the timeline, but I suppose it can't be helped now. Thank you in advanced for reading.

Jeralt loved his son. Loved his son so, so much. From the moment his partner told Jeralt he would be a father he loved whoever that baby would grow up to be. It was when he first held Byleth, the weight of the news of his lover’s death still so fresh in his mind, so fresh he hardly believed it, that he knew he would tear down the sky for this little bundle.

The first months were terrible. He was relieved from his knightly duties while he cared for his fragile newborn, but with the jarring reality that he was alone, that the beautiful life he promised his wife was ripped away from him and his son, it was impossibly difficult.

Byleth wasn’t born normal. It frightened Jeralt terribly. He didn’t cry, didn’t laugh, didn’t fuss or smile. Most immediately concerning, he didn’t have any way to let his father know he was hungry or that something was wrong. Even when Jeralt did feed him, he barley seemed to care that there was food, needing the bottle’s nipple to be pressed to his lips before he even opened his mouth, and even then it felt as though he was only doing it because it was expected of him. Jeralt devised a strict feeding schedule that he followed as if his own life would end should he deviate from it. He would sit up at night, holding this impossibly small human, rocking ever so slowly while asking,

“What did she do to you?” over and over as if asking enough would prompt Byleth to tell him

Rhea suggested once that Jeralt allow her to relieve him of his vigil over his child. To let her hold Byleth and feed him. Jeralt could have killed that woman right there. The suggestion was shot down without a second thought. She wasn’t upset though, just as serene as ever, but it didn’t fool Jeralt. It wasn’t a look of acceptance or respect. It was one of patience,

‘I can wait’ is what her face said. Like a leopard, settling into the brush, waiting for a more opportune moment. Jeralt felt every muscle in his body pull tight, boundless energy, every instinct telling him to kill this thing that looked at his child like a piece of meat. Jeralt knew she had done something to his baby, something that most likely stole his wife away. He probably looked like death, but he’d have to be buried in the ground before Rhea would ever touch Byleth.

Jeralt loved his son so much. It took a lot to get Byleth to respond to him, most of the time the baby would just stare at things in the room, stare at his father’s face, stare out the window. It was a long time before Jeralt felt safe enough taking the baby outside, but he knew he was only doing harm by keeping his child cooped up in a stuffy room and the last thing Jeralt wanted was to hurt his precious son. He figured Byleth appreciated the change, his big eyes, his mother’s eyes, turned up to the sky, like he couldn’t believe such a thing existed. So Jeralt made it an effort to sit outside with Byleth, tucked away in some quiet corner of the monastery. Never around others though, it was too soon. 

He didn’t know what to expect after he scraped together the courage to take Byleth to a physician. He kept the meeting a secret, he didn’t need Rhea sticking her nose into the situation. 

Byleth didn’t seem to have any nutritional deficiencies considering he didn’t have the benefit of natural breast milk, the doctor commended Jeralt on his strict feeding routine. His reflexes were fine, the doctor had gently moved Byleth’s head to one side, to which the pink infant straightened the corresponding arm and bent the other up. His startle response was fine, throwing out his arms and legs before curling them inwards in reply to the sharp sound of the doctor clapping. He would grasp at a finger placed in his hand and would look towards the direction of voices.

The doctor noted that Byleth not responding to the presence of food as abnormal but that he would likely grow out of it.

She waited until the end of the visit to discuss her most pressing concern,

“He’s perfectly healthy, save for his disinterest in feeding and emotional responses” she began, looking perturbed, “I-I hardly believed it when I first discovered it but…” Jeralt felt his chest go tight,

‘He’s healthy but what?’ he thought, panic rising in his mind

“His fingers and toes are getting the oxygen they need,it’s not a problem of circulation, he just… well he lacks a heart beat” 

Jeralt could hardly believe what he was saying. This confirmed his suspicions about Rhea. Babies aren’t just born without a heartbeat. The doctor seemed to notice Jeralt’s rising anxiety so she quickly grabbed arms and said something to him that he would think back to for the next two decades,

“Your son is healthy and strong, but more than that he’s alive, that’s something other children without a heartbeat can’t claim. If I were you, I wouldn’t question it, I would just be thankful and love that boy”

And so he did. And when that fire broke out in the cathedral, he knew that he had a chance to get his son away and he took it. 

He slipped away in the chaos and into the town. He bought a room at the inn and paid one of the maids what had to have been two months salary just for her to watch the child while he was away. Just three days, three days and it would be safe. Of course she was skeptical, but after being begged and being paid the money upfront, she accepted. Jeralt was able to return to the church without any of the inhabitants missing him. 

It was easy for him to fool them. To make them believe he lost his son. For him to comb through the ashes until his fingers bled, all to convince them. All for his son. It was easy to scream and cry, though the tears weren’t mourning his son, they were for his wife. Rhea had stolen the love of his life from him and the grief and hatred he had for her fueled his performance, it field it alongside the determination to protect the greatest gift his wife had given him.  
He waited to announce that he was leaving the knights of Seiros, he couldn’t afford to be hasty. This had to seem real, but every moment he was away from his son he was filled with a fear so potent he could hardly eat or sleep. It helped sell the broken father angle at least. Alois was heartbroken, he felt bad, as annoying as the kid could get with his jokes, it felt wrong to lie to him, but he couldn’t afford the loose ends, not when it came to Byleth.

Rhea was so hysterical over the loss of Byleth it only cemented his resolve. She had the look of a wild animal, that perfect composure had shattered. She didn’t even seem to register language, only screaming like a beast and destroying anything within reach before collapsing to the ground in a heap of moans and sobs. Seteth did all he could to calm her, contain her, he hardly questioned the sudden decision to leave. 

Jeralt didn’t look back at the place he had spent the last three decades of his life at. 

The young maid gave him an earful after he came to collect his son, he hugged the baby to his chest like he would fly away if given the chance. He paid the girl her due and told her to never speak of the transaction,

“Listen, I dunno what’s wrong with that boy, but I know y’two are in some sort of trouble, leaving a little baby with some stranger for half th’ week? If yer as smart as ya are desperate, you’d get outta town”

Jeralt couldn’t help but laugh at the plucky redhead. He thanked her and left, Byleth swaddled in his arms and a few days provisions tied to the side of his horse.


End file.
